


Fallen King

by Mmmph



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Femdom, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 07:36:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10657905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mmmph/pseuds/Mmmph
Summary: After the climactic battle in Breath of the Wild, the ancient evil that plagued Hyrule refuses to vanish entirely, cheating death and returning to the world born anew. The waiting world is not as obedient as he might've hoped, though, and in fact seems to have a different plan for him entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

Spiraling down awash in a hot sulfuric light and racked with pain in every place pain might live. Eyes open but unseeing, blinded against the fury of failure, absolute in its resolve. Shards of icy fire standing at attention up and down his body, reminders of every holy kiss from every holy arrow launched true and which sought to steal his power. Power. The word reminds him to stay alive, to fight. He braces for impact and then he crashes through the plains of existence, slipping in and out of real and not real, dead and undead. Lust or love or both plants seeds of strength in barren scorched lands where no strength was thought to ever grow again and then he is fighting, swimming upwards, muscled arms strained against the tide. His hands cut trenches in the torrential downfall of the underworld until even the waters bow and break to his will and he knows then that there is something worthy still left of him. They have not defeated him wholly. They have not ended his calamitous reign. They have only postponed its tyranny and when it rises again its vengeance will be mighty and swift and the dark grip of his iron fingers will close around Hyrule like shadow swallowing light. He will return. He will rise.

He will cheat death or he will die trying.

Collision. Lying still in a suffocating void. Time passes at intervals impossible to chart. Moons rise, fall. They are silver and swollen and lack a certain crimson wound in which he knows he can provide. There are long bouts of pain and misery and only the ragged scraping of his own desperate breaths to accompany him in the endeavor of survival. He can see again. Only light and vague shapes in its sullen glow, but definition slowly begins to etch itself back into the world. He can taste air on his tongue, feel cool grass beneath his bare flesh. Insects sing in the night like otherworldly sirens guiding him back to the land of the living. He can watch now the interminable arch of the moon as it passes across his eyes many times more and many times again, scratching silver trails in the black emptiness above. His strength returns in fits and starts with every cosmic turn. 

Before he even knew what his body was doing, he was sitting, crouching, standing. _Your name,_ his thoughts asked. “Ganondorf,” his mouth answered and with reply came a grin. He padded forth on large bare feet, testing each step to ensure the world was still there. Grass bowed beneath his soles and poked up between his toes, and then he was laughing a bellowing, cackling fit of joy for he knew he had wholly returned, had truly slipped the reaper’s noose.

Somewhere in the forest to the West a concession of Keese took flight into the sky upon hearing that laugh, beating wings in a symphony of horror as they fled, and the shadowed places at the gnarled feet of trees came alight with the myriad yellow glow of two dozen wolf eyes staring in the laugher’s direction. The beasts came to rest upon their haunches and lowered their snouts to the dirt, listening.

Ganondorf found a perfect sheet of unmolested glass cut into the earth beside the flat patch of grass where he’d laid for an eternity. It was a lake, and when he stepped to its edge and leaned forth to glimpse himself, it rippled as if in tribute to his might. His twin down below the cool water was nude. His swarthy skin glistened beneath the moon’s pale kiss, and Ganondorf found with a great sense of pride that his flesh had not been bastardized by the attempt on his life. It was pristine, in fact the towering man beneath the lake looked quite healthy all over. His chest was broad and defined, a thin trail of red hair cutting down his flat belly, splitting the muscular abdomen in halves. His legs were dark stone pillars rooting his strength to the earth beneath his feet. His face was long and handsome and unshaven, allowing a blood-red forest of wild hair to travel unabated across his cheeks and jawline as it stood as well all around his head in fiery tangles. Hands came up and touched delicately at that face framed in red, and Ganondorf knew then that not only had he returned in tact, but he had returned beautiful. 

And yet he had not returned strong. His physical strength was there, that much he felt with every twist of his arms or stride of his mighty legs, but the other strength, the fire he carried inside himself, the one that had the power to swallow worlds whole, was missing. He sneered at his water twin below and the handsome sorcerer sneered right back. Ganondorf marched nude and enraged to a tree standing erect at the lake’s northern shore and drove his fist into the thing’s wooden belly. It creaked and swayed but stood yet still in defiance. He grit his teeth and punched again and this time he followed through and the night filled with the shrill breaking of wooden limbs and when the song of destruction ended the tree lay in submission at his feet. He lifted a leg and planted his foot atop it, daring the conquered thing to splinter his sole. When it only lay quiet and still his grin resurfaced, for he knew in time Hyrule itself would be as the tree was then.

But not until he’d regained what he’d lost, until the emptiness inside him was filled again with fire and glory. There was some of the flames left, but when Ganondorf reached within for them he found only embers and ash. It was enough for small tricks, perhaps, but he’d need time before he sailed the dark skies as a calamitous deity once again. 

And so it was with that thought that Ganondorf fell to his knees in the grass beside the fallen tree and laid his palms flat to the earth and closed his eyes so as to focus and hear all of Hyrule’s little dark secrets that were left in the looming shadow of his fall from power. He could hear the wolves padding through the forests and mountains to his position, eager to serve, but it was not the wolves he needed. He heard simple creatures of leathery skin and sharpened claws, but those things never had mind for true treachery. They were only barbarous, wanton, and stupid. They would neither hear nor heed his call, but he would never beckon to such lowly beings in the first place. No, the servants he needed were of a different nature, and it was a long time before the winds carried him their scent and when it had he could see them and their home as clear as the lake he’d first come across upon awakening.

“My kin. Come to me.”

The words left his lips in a hushed whisper and merged with the shifting winds. They would carry it to the desert girls in the South, but his strength was still only so much and Ganondorf knew few would hear the call and half as many still would bother obeying it. But someone would come, perhaps a few. They would bring him food and water and weaponry and that was all a man needed to conquer a world when he carried the might of a King within him.

The great void of death had made him impatient to rule, but patient he knew he must be then. Ganondorf found himself an alcove set into a stony rise beside the wooded lands near the lake and stood in the long shadows cast from great stone fingers reaching overhead to blot the sky. It was a dark place, a secret place. He liked it right away. There was a cairn of sorts near the back of the alcove and it was there Ganondorf seated himself, setting his bare ass upon the cold rock and thinking it a poor stand-in for the throne of Hyrule that he would soon take in the coming days.

It wasn’t long after he’d been seated that some mangy mongrel came limping through the stand of lakeside trees beyond his alcove with tribute clutched in its jaws. Ganondorf was still, allowing the cautious beast to approach and drop the dead fish it carried at his feet. He picked up his tribute, sniffed at it, then tore into its raw belly with his teeth to get at the good meat within. The wolf watched closely, tongue lashing at its snout and jowls hungrily. 

Ganondorf stared back at the beast with flat, indifferent eyes. “Mine,” he said through a mouthful of fish and the mutt whimpered and not long after trailed off with its tail between its legs. He watched it go and finished off the fish till he could see the thin bones of its ribcage poking through the carnage to which he smiled upon and laughed and tossed aside.

A calmness took him, a content feeling of coming victory. He pressed his back to the rock wall behind him and laid his palms flat atop his thighs. His eyes fell closed and every sound of the wild played in his pointed ears like a song and he grew tired and saw no reason not to rest and so he did.

He slept a dreamless sleep and when next he opened his eyes a great amount of time must have passed. Around the perimeter of his alcove, waiting patient and obedient just at the line of trees was a pack of wolves, or perhaps several packs. They watched him with loyal eyes, guarding over him as he woke. They were brown and grey and tan and stood in wait for order or command. Ganondorf’s lips peeled back from his teeth in a malicious grin to show the beasts he was one of them and the wolves all bowed reverently to their King.

A different sort of beast strode through the trees then. A long and supple beast with skin smooth and the color of fresh olives. Two of them, slinking forth in their jewelry and silks and sandals, doe eyes on each, big and filled with excitement and fear. The Gerudo girls looked to each other, as if testing to make sure what they’d shared in seeing was real, then fixed their pretty eyes back upon him. They stared and he returned it and the wolves watched with their queer tails patting eagerly at the dirt below them.

Ganondorf smiled and raised a hand and curled his fingers in a beckoning motion. “Come, ladies. Your King is here now.”

“It’s true then, really true…” One of the girls said in a hushed voice filled with wonder. “We heard your name on the wind and we… we didn’t believe it at first.” She put her hand against her chest perhaps to still her beating heart. “We heard you’d been killed, or… well…”

“That the spirt known as Ganon had been,” the other girl finished for her friend. “That an ancient hero, a hundred years dead, returned and smote the calamity right out of the skies!”

His smile faltered. A darkness stirred in him, cold concentrated rage. “I am Ganon. He is me. We are one spirit joined in the same, and we are both the ‘calamity’. Do I look ‘smitten’ to you girls? Do I look _defeated_!?”

When he raised his voice both Gerudo women shrunk away fearfully and every one of the dozen or so wolves seated in congregation around the perimeter rose to a stand and leaned into their haunches ready for action. They snarled and growled at the girls, encasing them in a trap should they make to run.

“No! No, you weren’t defeated!” One of the girls begged.

“We didn’t mean anything by it, my lord. Honestly! We just heard it is all!”

“Please don’t have the wolves hurt us, King Ganondorf!”

The name ‘King Ganondorf’ had a nice sound to it and Ganondorf decided as quickly as that to forgive his servants. He snarled at the wolves and they understood it as sign to stand down, returning to lie flat on the earth and watch him closely for their next command. He beckoned the women closer again, using the return of his smile to disarm their trepidation. They inched forth one sandaled foot at a time, shrewd eyes watching cautiously down the tan slopes of their long noses. When they entered the alcove, he could feel the heat emanating from their bodies and knew they could feel his own in return. The shapes of those two curved beauties roused his interest in ways he hadn’t considered in a century or more and when they were within range he set his hands out to find their shapely hips and pull them close. They came without struggle.

“Girls,” he whispered, letting them look upon him and to revel in his beauty. They watched with bated breath. “Touch me,” he commanded, and without hesitation the women’s slender fingers were in his long red hair and sliding down his cheek and caressing the hard muscle of his chest and arms.

“We heard you call us in the wind,” one said, her hand sliding up and down his sides running over the bumps of his ribs beneath the hot flesh there. “Heard your Kingly voice commanding us.”

“It took us right here,” the other whispered. “Right to our master.”

“It was rumored since I was a young girl that a Gerudo King, the one man in a hundred years time to be born amongst our numbers, would return.”

“And he would return with power.”

“Great power.”

“And he would wield this great power to rise the Gerudo up again as rulers of Hyrule instead of outcasts.”

“Instead of desert-dwellers scrapping by on what little resources our fickle land provides.”

“Baking always under the endless bastard heat of the sun.”

“Show us some of your power, my lord.”

“King Ganondorf. Show us. Please.”

As the girls spoke their hands continued rubbing and caressing him and Ganondorf knew then it had been too long since he’d felt the delicate touch of a woman. He was experiencing an ‘awakening’ of sorts in parts of him that needed relief.

“Show us your power, my lord.”

“Show us why you are King of the Gerudo.”

Tiring of their mouths, he asked, “How many days since you heard my words in the wind?”

“Three days, my lord.”

_Three days._ He had slept for three turns of the sky and yet a profound tiredness still pervaded every inch of him and he knew he’d need another long rest soon to stave off the fatigue. Dying, it seemed, had taken much from him. His powers were not returning as quickly as he’d thought they might, and trying to display them now would only make him look weak before his servants. It troubled him enough to ruin the mood, and with a great sweep of one hand he thrust the girls back away from him.

“I need arms and armor. Shelter. I’ll need food and water. A horse, preferably a big black steed, wild as the night.” His eyes moved between his two servants watching him. “Has that desert sun baked your ears? I require those things, all of them. Bring them to me.”

The girls faced one another and in that moment Ganondorf thought them not unlike the twin versions of himself in and out of the lake water. Their visages bore matching expressions of a shrewd nature, eyes narrowed and some tacit conversation passing between them heard only by the wind. It angered him immensely.

“Did you not hear your King? I said-”

“You have no power,” one of the bronze statues towering before him uttered, a faint smile curling her full lips.

“It was as Chief Riju said,” the other added. “When we told everyone what we’d heard. We were told you’d be powerless. Not the calamity itself but merely a shell, an imposter.”

The insolence rolling so cavalier from their serpent tongues filled his belly with a hot rage and Ganondorf growled not unlike the feral beasts standing guard all around them. He rose from his stone throne on legs laced with muscle and vein and barred his teeth and shook out his mane of fiery red hair.

“You’ve made a mistake coming here if you think that, girls. My sorcerer’s powers may yet elude me, but they grow stronger with every passing moment. Until they’ve returned fully, I see I’ll have to make an example of what I can do with the two of you.”

He curled his mighty hands into fists and stalked forth from the shadows of the alcove. The wolves raised from the ground and began inching towards the Gerudo heathens, a noose cinching around their pretty necks with every pad of the beast’s paws. It wasn’t until Ganondorf was nearly upon them when one tucked her fingers between her lips and filled the woods with a shrill whistle. The world came alive in the thunder of horse hooves beating earth and a great dust seemed to clear the path for the flanking attack to come. Then in a great din of noise and dust, ten more Gerudo women emerged from the chaos mounted horseback and driving the wolves off with wild yells and long leather-banded spears. Some wolves skittered off, some stood their ground but those that had were surrounded and conquered until they had no choice but to flee themselves, and when the pandemonium of the flank settled it was only ten golden warriors that stood the perimeter.

Ganondorf snarled and made to lash out at them when the whip cracked across his shoulder and arm. He roared and winced backwards holding the wound and found the two girls he’d been making to pounce upon had unsheathed their weapons. One kept a long spear angled up at his chest to keep him from rushing, the other clutched the thick handle of the braided whip that had beaten him. In a rage he tried grabbing at the woman’s spear but her twin lashed him again, harder, and he had no choice but to retreat from that biting leather serpent less it snap at him again.

“To your knees,” his whipper commanded, raising her weapon balefully skywards.

“ _I am your King!_ ” He bellowed, but his royal mouth was shut when the pointed end of the whip came lashing at his jaw. He stumbled back, hissing hot hair through barred teeth as his fingers traced the delicate line of blood beneath his lip.

“Silence, Ganondorf,” a new woman said, freshly unmounted and joining the assault. “We don’t know how your cruelty survived the Calamity’s destruction but we will not allow you to ever regain your powers. You and your monster tormented this land with cold tyranny for a century. Never again shall you do so.”

“And you will never besmirch the name of the Gerudo again either,” another woman demanded, approaching the alcove dragging behind her a heavy set of iron shackles and fetters. “Now on your knees to be set in bondage for the rest of your days.”

He’d hardly moved for attack when the whip came cracking down across his arm again. He snarled and cursed and was beaten again and by then another Gerudo bearing a whip had joined the ever tightening circle around him and whipped at him from the opposite side. They lashed him into submission until he gave up on attack. He was forced to retreat into the very back of the alcove until no ground remained left to retreat upon and then stood hissing through his barred teeth like a cornered beast.

“You desert whores have made a grave mistake here today,” he growled, setting hateful red eyes burning upon each of them in turn. “My powers will return and when they have I’ll see every one of your treacherous coward heads adorned upon a spike. Every one of you!”

“Silence his mouth,” one girl commanded, and a whip-bearer was more than happy to oblige with a lash right across his lips. 

Ganondorf cradled his wound and was ready to make a leap for the nearest girl to tear her whore’s throat out when four Gerudo all descended upon him in a flurry of lashings and jabbings with the blunt end of their spears. He was driven against the wall and then whipped down until he fell to his knees and the girls descended upon him like vultures. If he had his full strength he might’ve had an easy time crushing them, but in the infancy of his power still he was able to be tamed by their many strong hands. They forced him still and locked his wrists in heavy iron cuffs that adjoined his hands behind his back and kept them there. Fetters clasped over his ankles, binding his feet up tight against one another. A last iron claw was fastened around his throat, collaring him and pinching tight at the flesh beneath. He was whipped once more to steady his writhing then knelt immobile atop the stone glaring up at the half dozen captors who’d bound and conquered him.

“My captivity won’t last,” he snarled, fidgeting in the heavy irons that made up his binds. “You think to keep me in bondage? What will you whores do when my powers resurface and-”

One of the Gerduo leaned down and clamped her hand tight over his mouth. “He is in desperate need of a gag to keep this big mouth of his shut.”

“And a gag he shall wear,” another added as she circled behind him and shoved the padding of a thick leather muzzle hard across his mouth and joined the leather straps of it around the back of his head where they fastened together and sealed the gag firmly in place.

“You will talk no more,” one of the girls informed him.

“We demand your silence and obedience and before this day is through we will have both.”

“Or you will be lashed till your flesh is as striped as a Lynel’s fur.”

Ganondorf grunted a protest from his tightly muzzled mouth that offered little sound nor comprehension but the women lashed him for it anyway. His hands morphed to fists and pulled at his chains but they were infuriatingly tight and remained locked behind his back. He glared fuming up at the women encircling him but then they took his glare away as well when a thick cloth was tied around his eyes to submerge him in a black void not unlike the one of his escaped death.

It was that way he was lifted and carried off, blinded and muzzled and collard and chained hand and foot, naked as his birth day, his manhood flopping about uselessly between his legs and the myriad of little welts the whore had left on his flesh with their whips crying in agony. He was loaded into what must’ve been a wagon and then strapped in place with more locks and chains and ropes till he was one with the wooden floor entirely. As the wagon rumbled into motion, the Gerudo women’s feet came to rest upon his chest and thighs stepping hard down on him, though he doubted it was to hold him in place after the heavy work of bondage they’d put him through. No, it was to assert their dominance over him, to callously remind him that this was his place in the new world he’d returned to, beneath the heels of their filthy peasant feet.

And for the time it was, but the time would not last. The blood moon was on the rise and his powers tantamount beside it. When they returned in full he would cast aside the bondage of his kin and then cruelty and wickedness would need be redefined by mortal words for what he would do to the heathens that had captured him and the world would know evil beyond any earthly measures of evil that’d come before.

For now, though, he lay still in wait.


	2. Chapter 2

When the convoy returned from its long journey, rumbling down the desert’s solitary road southward and beneath the stone arch that marked the end of the outer world and the start of Gerudo town, the women gathered had worked themselves into a quiet and eager anticipation. The rumbling of the big wooden tires of the wagon joined in the myriad murmurings of the girls awaiting it as it drew forth into the town square. The beige covering shone brilliant white under the desert sun and when it billowed it was as if teasing the onlookers of the treasure which might lie within. Girls crowded up close as they could, smothering the wagon in their closely pressed gathering of tanned skin and bared midriffs and sandaled feet. Excitement coursed through their numbers when the riders revealed they had, in fact, found and captured the calamitous sorcerer whom many thought dead at the hands of the ancient warrior.

The soldiers took up the rear of the convoy and when they’d breached the inner walls of town they dismounted their horses and were quick to climb inside the covered wagon. The girls left outside could hear a struggling and a muffled groaning as the sound of locks and straps played crisply within. Some women began to run their hands along the tops of their chests or over their thighs or down the muscled curves of their flat bellies. Hungered eyes shone amorously in the crowd like beacons, fixing determinedly upon where the captive might emerge. He was now the first Voe ever allowed upon their sanctimonious grounds.

Then he was thrust before them in all his glory. Audible gasps ran through the women and several held their throats and stared with gaped mouths up at the prisoner. He was bound in every way a man could be, hands, feet, mouth, eyes and throat. And he was naked and massive in more ways than one. His shoulders were broad and rippled with muscle much like the rest of him and he had a glorious mane of red hair, wild about his head like fire. Between his bare and meaty thighs lay his manhood and many a girl that day stared upon it as if a spell had been cast upon them. One fanned herself, another licked at her lips. When the soldiers lowered him to stand barefoot before the women in his bondage, he stood the tallest amongst their ranks by at least a whole head.

His blindfold was removed and revealed a pair of beautiful red eyes that glared and squinted hatred against the sun and the girls equal alike. The giant man’s head moved this way and that so that he could drink in the sight of them down the long slope of his big nose. His mouth was tightly muzzled with a leather pad and he could not speak and most of the girls appreciated that fact very much. They were afraid of him and afraid of what evil spell he might cast were he able to open his mouth. He made an agitated sound beneath his gag and one of the soldiers lashed him with a whip till he went silent again. Every bit of him was wrapped tight in ropes and chains and it looked as if a strong wind might blow him over with no way for the man to stop himself from tipping save to balance on those massive bare feet that anchored him to the earth.

“He is Ganondorf,” Captain Teake announced for all to hear, standing beside the captive and displaying him as if he were a trophy. “The human incarnate of the evil spirit Ganon, and now the only living Gerudo Voe.”

At that a fresh murmur cascaded through the ranks as the girls talked among themselves of the implications of such an anomalous occasion that had been thrust upon them. Ganondorf watched their chatter silently with indifferent eyes.

“Would he have been afforded time, he may have risen to the likes of the Calamity again and brought war and darkness over the land for another hundred years. But with our conquering and capturing of him, we Gerudo can ensure our legacy is not that of _his_. We will not be known as the bearers of evil, but as its safeguard. This man will never go free. He is no King. He is nothing now but our prisoner.”

Applause and cheers filled the town square, the joy washing over the bound man despite his angered expression attempting to sour it.

“His hands will remain chained for the rest of his days so that he can never wield a sword. His feet will be bound so he might never walk the path of evil. His sinister mouth shall be kept silent so his serpent’s tongue can never tell a lie or issue a command. His bondage is his conquering, and we will see that he never escape it. Now let us carry him to the dungeons girls so that this vile monster might be locked away for an eternity.”

The women did not need further motivation. Most were eager just to lay their bare hands against his bare flesh and feel him, test him, know what he was. More than was required enclosed around him like water damming up around a rock and then he was taken in their hands and made parallel to the ground. The prisoner made sounds against his muzzle but did not struggle much in their hold. As they took him in a long march with Captain Teake spearheading the way towards the dungeons, hands wandered in places they shouldn’t have. They groped at his muscled thighs and forearms. They tested the warm flesh of his belly and his sides and his neck. They explored his feet and calves and more than one woman dared to allow her palms to brush against his manhood where it lay flopping from side to side below his waist. They were giddy with excitement by the time they’d crossed under the cool shade of the dungeon’s entrance to be rid of the smoldering sun. Because of their rules and pariah existence most had rarely had physical contact with a man and some had never even seen one. And now they had one, all bound up and at the absolute mercy of their slender and curious fingers.

The prisoner was taken down a long slope of sandy rock that dipped beneath the surface of the earth and entered the cool shadowed world of the dungeons below. They carried him to the cell at the very end of the tunnel and brought him inside and set about binding him in place. He was sat down and put up against a wooden pillar and fastened to it with ropes and chains till the place where he ended and the pillar began grew indistinguishable. Several girls noticed how the ropes crossing his dark muscled chest made his flesh bulge and look even more enticing. Ganondorf growled a threat into his muzzle when a hand began creeping up his inner thigh but he was powerless to stop it.

“A good place for a creature like this,” the captain told the girls. “Here he will stay for now while we decide how best to imprison him.” Teake looked down upon the man with measured eyes. “Perhaps we’ll mummify him and bury him in the sand for a thousand years.”

Ganondorf held her eyes but looked otherwise indifferent to the threat.

“Let us leave the monster in its cave. I hope you enjoy solitude and silence, prisoner. It is all you shall receive on this night.”

And it was. But when dawn came clawing pale incipient light across the sand blown town the next morning there was a great gathering again, for overnight the guards had decreed the prisoner must be punished and humiliated to humble him. Many Gerudo stepping from their homes with sleepers still in their eyes were greeted by the sight of Ganondorf’s nakedness being chained and spread in the town square. He roared and thrashed like the beast he was but it did not stop the women soldiers from securing his wrists and ankles to stakes buried deep in the sandy ground. When they’d finished and he stood tethered to the earth and standing naked as a newborn babe, the whips came out and the square filled with the sharp strident sounds of his punishment. Sweat beaded from his dark temples and many muffled protests were thrown against his leather gag but the punishment went on.

He was whipped clean the better part of the morning as the gathering crowd watched from the shade of their porch awnings or from beneath their merchant huts or from the stone piers of balconies. Several of the younger women amidst those numbers began to avert their eyes after the lashings seemed more cruel than necessary. A gathering of them formed naturally in the southern alleys of town and they shared their empathy with one another for the beast-like man whose whippings could still be heard drifting over the tops of the sun-bleached roofs north of their group. Tepidly, one amidst their numbers confessed to hearing the prisoner’s wonderful voice whispering in her ear after dark but knew it could not be so with his mouth kept gagged from sunrise to sunset. Yet still, others seemed concerned by the confession and others still admitted something similar. 

That night after the prisoner was taken from his whipping posts and stashed away deep beneath the earth again, the same girls found themselves naturally drawn together outside beneath the clear and starless desert sky. They plotted to go to the man and soothe him the best they could so as to show the Gerudo could be kind as well as cruel.

Their scheme was launched later in the night when the moon stood at its apex watching over them in a sliver of silver light. They made their way down the long and narrow dungeon path until they stood gathered before the prisoner’s heavy wooden door. An iron padded lock stood obstructing their way, but the smallest and craftiest of their congregation had lifted the key from Captain Teake’s quarters an hour earlier, and soon enough the door was swinging back on its hinges.

He sat waiting in the dark, a rectangle of moonlight now washing over him, painting first his bare feet then his bare legs and scarred bare upper body in its pale glow. His face lay still in shadow, but those red eyes of his seemed to glow in that suffocating blackness nonetheless. One by one the girls filtered into the room and seated themselves around his naked bound form. They carried with them a bucket of hot water and soap and wash rags and set about cleaning him at once.

Ganondorf watched with pensive eyes moving between the girls above his muzzled mouth as they lathered him. Their soft hands cupped around the curves of his nakedness, gliding over him smoothly till his flesh glistened in moonlight. They each used their own separate washcloth to bath him, rubbing hard but gentle at his arms and chest and legs and feet, wringing out his sweat and filth into the bucket and gathering more warm water to cleanse him. They took extra delicate care of the many red stripes left upon him from his whipping at dawn, and with each pass of their hands upon his wounds a groan seeped from behind the man’s muzzle.

“Look,” one of the girl’s beside his waist said in a hushed and reverent tone. “His manhood grows.”

Between his thighs and the mane of red pubic hair there, Ganondorf’s cock stood erect in a hard stiff pole of flesh and vein.

“What we’ve done excites him,” the oldest of the women noted, explaining to the younger of them who had not yet been with a man. “That stiffening is how he must be relieved of his excitement.”

“What do we do with it?” A girl asked, but upon glimpsing the swollen thing she’d already began to feel a longing to have it thrust inside of her and fill up the emptiness that had sat heavy between her legs since her maturation a few years earlier.

“A woman used her hands or her mouth or her private parts to please him until his seed comes forth.”

“Should we please him then?”

Ganondorf made a sound against his muzzle that was promptly ignored. The women’s attention had left him fully and focused squarely on that throbbing mass between his thighs. Without anyone bothering to answer the lingering question, a girl suddenly reached out and took a handful of him, feeling the throbbing heat of his manhood against her palm.  
“It’s hot.”

Another girl reached out and grabbed him around the base of his shaft, testing his warmth for herself. Her breath flustered and her cheeks reddened but she was smiling all the same and groping at him tightly.

“Like this,” the oldest informed her younger partners and closed her hands around their own and began guiding them up and down his shaft, pumping him as if drawing water from a well.

A long and breathy moan pressed against the prisoner’s muzzle and Ganondorf’s eyes closed as the girls pleasured him.

“He likes it.”

“Yes, most men do.”

“And if he should return to power…”

“Then he’ll remember this kindness that we’ve provided him.”

“And he’ll take care of us.”

“Like we’re taking care of him.”

And the women did take care of him then. They took turns grabbing hold of his swollen member and stroking it lovingly, giggling at the way the man was helpless but to moan and writhe and buck his hips. He spent his seed in less than a minute, a hot sticky fluid dripping over the girls’ hands as he made loud sounds against his gag. But they did not relent in pleasuring him. He softened only a bit before their groping hands made him stiffen again and then they stroked and rubbed him till he came again. They let him rest a moment and brought him rising up a third time and on this time one of the girls confessed to desiring the use of her mouth on him and the others agreed. She straddled his bound thighs and lowered herself to swallow him up in the warmth of her mouth. Louder still Ganondorf grew as his cock was sucked and sucked until he filled the girl’s mouth up with his seed. They let him rest and then another girl wanted to try, but by then they were having a difficult time keeping him erect.

“What’s wrong with him? Is her boring of us?”

“A man needs time to gather more seed inside himself,” the eldest explained. “He’s being worn out.”

“Can we still pleasure him?”

“Once more, I supposed, but I doubt it will bring him much pleasure.”

She was right on that. The girl took him only half erect in her mouth and sucked at him till he was dry, but Ganondorf’s moans turned to groans and he didn’t seem to like it nearly as much as the first few times. Disappointed, the girls gave up on his member and took to washing his seed from his thighs and belly and from their own hands and arms and mouths till everyone was clean again and there was no trace at all of what they’d done to the prisoner.

Ganondorf began trying to speak but the girls were adamant in refusing him speaking privilege. Instead his muzzle was tightened and the rope checked and tightened as well where they’d come loose.

“You must remain prisoner,” one told him, frightened of the way his mad red eyes bore into her own. “But if the legends are true, you will find a way out of your bondage on your own and then you will retake your throne amidst the Gerudo.”

“And we will worship you should that day come.”

“And pleasure you.”

“Pleasure you as much as you like.”

One by one the girls took turns kissing him on the cheek and then rising up and hurrying to leave that shadowed underworld that was his prison. When the last had gone and sealed the door shut up tight again, the prisoner was left alone, bound and silenced and breathing heavily into his pitch black chamber of his enslavement. His face bore an expression of quiet seething rage and that way it stayed until the frustrations of his own weakness and incompetence lulled him into a dreamless sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

He slept or he didn’t, in the endless dark of his cell who could know such things? Time passed, he knew that much from the soreness of his bondage, and at some point the door of his cage opened and Ganondorf sat staring into the harsh blinding light of the desert sky sweeping down to him from the tunnel beyond. He groaned and shifted on the stone floor and narrowed his eyes upon the vague figure cloaked within that white sheath of sunlight. It was the form of a person towering over him and standing perhaps in judgement of every horrible thing he had ever done and might yet do. Then his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw her for what she truly was.

Princess Zelda watched him in all her royal beauty. She stood erect in a flowing gown of light silk with a crown of flowers encircling her pale brow and silver sandals laced around her pale feet. Her pointed ears broke through the cascade of hair tumbling to her shoulders and between them her eye regarded him with compassion.

Ganondorf thrashed in his restraints. Some ancient part of him deep within, the embers of the calamitous being he’d been before, stirred wildly and set him into a frenzy. He saw in those pretty royal eyes the battle he’d waged for a hundred years against the princess and ultimately had lost. Every part of him alive wanted to fight again and continue where he’d left off and throw the princess down and vanquish her beneath his shadowed might. His bondage stilled him and muffled his roaring warcries.

“He’s been lashed.” Her voice was soft and sweet as fresh nectar. He despised the sound of it. “You cannot whip an innocent man in this new world we’re rebuilding.”

A Gerudo revealed herself from behind the princess’s silhouette and stood towering over her, her swarthy skin stark beside Zelda’s pale figure. “He must be punished.”

“Not like this. The evil may be within him, but until he acts upon it he remains innocent.”

“He is a beast. He plots to enslave my people and wield us against Hyrule as an army. My girls have heard his wicked mouth in the wind saying as much.”

“That may be true.” The princess lifted her chin haughtily. “But words are not crimes. And despite it all… I still find pity towards him.”

The Gerudo woman made an agitated noise and shifted about uncomfortably. “…this is a mistake.”

“Release him from his bondage and we will see.”

The dungeon filled with a half dozen armed Gerudo who filed in and stood flanking Ganondorf and keeping close eye on him with their long pointed spears held at the ready. His red eyes swept their numbers without fear. Two more funneled in from the doorway and knelt beside him. Their hands went to work on his chains and ropes, unknotting here and unlocking there, and slowly he shed himself of his restraints and only the muzzle upon his mouth remained. He sat naked rubbing his wrists and eyeing the women carefully. He could pounce upon one, disarm her, launch an attack upon the others with her spear. Could they stop him in time before he fought his way to the princess? Had he regained enough of his power to fill this room with death?

“Look at his wicked eyes,” the woman in charge said. “Even now fresh out of his restraints he plots and schemes. This is a _mistake,_ Princess Zelda. Surely you can see that?”

“There must be justice in this new world of ours,” Zelda answered and her eyes fell to her delicate hands clutching dearly at the hem of her gown. “Even if justice is… difficult.”

Ganondorf watched her breathing heavily and using every bit of restraint he had to keep himself from pouncing at the woman who’d bested him in a hundred year war in what felt like another life.

“Remove his gag. Let’s see what he has to say for himself.”

Two women knelt and tried ungagging him but Ganondorf shrugged them aside and did the task himself. He unlaced the straps at the back of his head and tore the muzzle from his mouth, tossing it at the feet of the princess. He licked his lips and allowed cool air to touch them for the first time in many moons. He felt the room hold its collected breath in anticipation of what he might say and relished in the moment. He deserved their attention, and one day soon they’d all be waiting on his every word for a different reason and it would be them who wore the chains and they would call him King. He stared up at the princess and could think of nothing her pathetic pointed ears were worthy of hearing and so he remained silent.

“You see,” Zelda began with a pompous smile, “Even free of his bondage, my victory over him has changed the man. He is obedient now. Like a dog.”

Raw unbridled anger coursed through every inch of his being. Ganondorf ground his teeth against one another and fumed but refused further action. It was bait. Zelda smiled down upon him, the pretty curve of her pink lips infuriating him further. He saw his conquering then housed in that smile. It taunted him. Mocked him. Made an absolute fool of him. All at once a hundred years of pent up fury untangled itself within him and made him leap like a raving madman at the princess, arms outstretched and hands twisted into two instruments made only for choking.

He was nearly upon her when the guards fell upon him instead. The Gerudo tackled him to the ground and their many hands held him in place and acted as cuffs to restrain him. He thrashed on the floor like a fish out of water but there were too many restrainers upon him. One put their foot on the back of his head and pushed his face down against the stone until he settled himself.

“You see, Princess,” the captain was saying from somewhere in the frant din of the room around him. “He is a beast as I said. And he just made an attempt on your life. Is that crime enough for your ‘new Hyrue’?”

Ganondorf writhed in the women’s hands to no avail. Looking wildly upwards he could only see Zelda’s sandaled feet mocking him just beside his nose. He roared and craned his neck and would have bit her royal toes off had she not stepped back and kicked some sand in his eyes blinding him.

“Yes. He has proven himself as wicked and beast-like as you’ve said. Sadly, perhaps nothing has changed in him. Still, he must not be whipped. That is a particularly cruel punishment. There are other ways to punish a man. Bring him outside and we’ll make an example of him yet.”

They wrestled him to his feet and clung dearly to every inch of him to still his writhing. The Gerudo forced him out of the room in their tight grip, one having leashed his collar with a length of chain and dragging him forth like a common dog. He shouted at them with every profane word he knew but it didn’t slow the girls in the slightest. Twice a hand came over his mouth to try and quiet him but he shook his head free and went on cursing them all in an unbroken string of hatred.

They forced him out of the tunnel and into the town square where a gathering of Gerudo had already formed up and was only swelling more fully by the moment. It was nearly dusk and the cool desert winds were sweeping upon him as he was made to walk barefoot upon the hot stone of the square and then up onto a wooden dais where instruments of restraint made him realize in a fury that they’d planned it all out for him since the beginning to be lured into disobedience and require punishment.

A pillory awaited him. The guards unlocked its bindings and opened it to reveal a trio of holes each trimmed in leather to better cushion and restrain its prisoner. His head was forced down against the center hole, so low to the ground he was forced to drop to his knees, and when his hands were fixed in the holes adjacent, the top board was brought back down and locked in place, sandwiching him inside and keeping him immobile. Below the dais, the Gerudo woman watched curiously. 

Zelda appeared before him, and knelt down as he was they were nearly on eye level. He opened his mouth to curse her and she filled it instead with a bundle of cloth, gagging him. His attempt to spit it out was ended when she used a second cloth to tie tightly around his lower face.

“Quiet,” the princess demanded as she tightened the gag on his mouth further reducing his muffled protests. “You’ve spoken enough wickedness for one lifetime.”

He roared at her from beneath the cloth but that only put a smile on her comely face that he wished nothing more than to see destroyed.

When he was locked down in place, the princess turned to the watchful crowd and addressed them. “Girls, I come to you today from Hyrule Castle with good news. Our rebuilding efforts go well, and in time I’m sure the lands of Hryrule will be restored and as beautiful as they ever were. But on this day I come seeking your aid. There lie all manner of dark creatures that would see our efforts gone to waste. Before you here today kneels one of them. The beast, Ganondorf. You guards and I just bore witness firsthand of the cruel manner of his nature, fore he made an attempt on my life in the dungeons below. I ask you all, as new citizens of this new world we look to build, that you help rid away the darkness.

“It’s come to my attention some of you have been empathizing with the man. Even that some have been spotted going to his dungeons at night and… caring for him. Today I must beg you to offer no such further sympathies. He is a serpent, and like a serpent he will deceive you and when he’s used you up for his own purposes he will discard you. He is _not_ a King. He shall never be one. He is a simple creature and, though devious and wicked as he might be, he holds no true powers. Look upon him now. What power do you see?”

Ganondorf growled at her through his gag and clenched his fists, but was forced to remain kneeling upon the dais with his head and hands locked up tight. He squirmed but made no further struggles. He knew doing so would only serve the princess’s mission in degrading him. Zelda picked up his leash, pooled in a cluster of chain below his head, and tugged at it, forcing him to look up at her.

“He is not to be harmed, lest we all fall as lowly and cruel as him. Yet still, he must be punished. Girls, if you would be so kind as to tie him in place now.”

And at her command the Gerudo sprung to action. They removed him from the pillory and wrestled him across to the other end of the dais where a long wooden plank lay in wait. He was forced to sit upon it, then a flurry of hands made him lay flat and got him twisted around and stretched out till he was all spread apart in a large ‘X’ shape. His hands and feet were fastened at each end of that ‘X’ with ropes and then his collar was bolted down to the wood as a last measure of restraining him. When they’d finished, he was stretched wide beneath the day’s last light, staring into the sky and helpless but to squirm in his new bondage. When he made noises of protest, his gag was tightened in attempt to shut him up.

Zelda appeared above him, backdropped by that pink dome of twilight sky. He muttered curse at her and writhed about but she only stood staring, that infuriating little hint of a smile curling at the end of her royal lips. From her the bosom of her dress she produced a long slender feather. It twisted menacingly clutched between her thumb and forefinger. She lowered it, slowly, and made it come to rest just upon the crown of Ganondorf’s chin. He narrowed his eyes upon the thing hatefully and she twirled it about, tickling at his neck. He shook his head and tried escaping its fine tip but his ropes held him in place and refused him the freedom to avoid its ticklish torture. Zelda dragged the feather down his neck and split the large plates of pectoral muscles before sliding it aside and letting it play over his ribs. Ganondorf bucked uncontrollably atop the planks he was bound to, shouting muffled protest and shaking his head as the princess tickled him. She twirled the feather between his ribs, letting the tip torture at the sensitive skin housed within and Ganondorf was helpless but to howl into his gag and wiggle about every which way.

“This is your ‘King’?” Zelda asked with a snicker. “This beast who lies squirming like a child beneath the simple touch of a feather? He is no King, girls. Look upon him. He is just a base creature.”

She moved the feather to his bare belly and dragged it mercilessly back and forth, dipping into his belly button, exiting, circling down around the curves of his thighs, finding her way back. All the while a torturous maddening twisted within Ganondorf as he lay helpless but to be tickled. He thrust his hips and curled his fists and howled more beneath the cloth silencing him but it was all for nought. The princess went on exploring his bare flesh with her feather and making an example of him for the crowd. This was her real scheme: to humiliate him. What leadership could he possibly inspire with the display the princess made of him.

She tickled his belly and when she had her fill of watching him squirm she moved to his thighs and dragged the feather over the muscled knots there, allowing the tip only briefly to dance across his manhood. She tickled her way down to his knees and moved behind to his hamstrings and calves, pausing to watch him writhe helplessly in his bondage. When the feather finally found his bare feet, Ganondorf launched into a frenzy. Zelda laughed herself as she assaulted the soles of each foot in turn, watching with delight as he bucked and thrashed and howled endlessly from his gagged mouth.

She hesitated only long enough to turn and address the growing crowd. “Join me, girls. See what this potential ‘King’ of yours can be reduced to.”

Then the sky blotted out above, for a great gathering of olive-skinned women joined the pale princess in flanking him and encircling his bound body. Ganondorf grunted and shook his head and tried issuing command with his eyes alone, but Zelda noticed those red demon eyes of his trying to work some spell and quickly fetched a new length of cloth and blindfolded him. Then he was submerged in the dark, blind and silent and immobile, and the tickling began in true. He knew where the princess was as she was the only feather-wielder, dancing her way around his helpless body. Everywhere else, though, there were fingers; long fingers, slender fingers, curious fingers. They wiggled their way into his bare flesh, testing and teasing him. His feet were assaulted most relentlessly, the girls giggling to themselves as they tortured his soles, but his neck and ribs and the sensitive skin beneath his arms was frequented in bouts of long agonizing torture as well. They tickled and tickled and when he thought that surely they must be tiring of his torture, they found a fresh surge of excitement and energy to continue punishing him with.

This went on for a great deal of time. At a point, all thought and all senses vanished in the blind emptiness Ganondorf lay in, and only the tickling was real to him. He lay in a pool of his own sweat helplessly jerking this way and that and yet still they tortured him. When the merciless assault upon his poor bare flesh finally found its end, Ganondorf lay obedient as a tamed dog, eager not to displease the women and bring upon himself another bout of punishment. The cloth was untied from around his mouth and the gag was taken out.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Ganondorf,” the princess’s voice questioned.

He panted and licked his lips, wary of saying the wrong words and upsetting her.

“Shall we tickle you further?”

“ _No!_ ” He pleaded with a shake of his head. “Please!”

“Then you submit?”

“Yes! I submit… I submit.”

“Good boy.” Her soft hands stroked his hair and he calmed at her touch. “Your punishment will cease for now. Listen to me, Ganondorf: you are to remain here for the rest of your days as the Gerudo’s servant. You will attend to their needs. You will do what labor they need done. You will wash and rub their feet when they are tired and you will do all this without a word of protest, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Say it then.”

“I understand. I am their servant.”

“Good. If I receive word you’re causing trouble out here, rest assured I will return and you _will_ be punished even more severely than you were today. Do you understand?”

“I understand. I will not disobey.” His mouth made the words form but his mind was empty still. He could feel the residue of a thousand tickling fingers left all over his body. He winced when the wind blew hard and he thought he was being tortured again. The king inside himself had fallen, only this new creature desperate to avoid punishment remained. He swallowed hard and nodded his head. “I will never disobey.”

“Very good, Ganondorf, very good. I will hold you to that promise. I take my leave of you now. _Girls_. Reward him for his obedience.”

Ganondorf lay still in his blindness, squirming ever-so-slightly in his restraints and wary of some trick. No trick came, however. He heard Zelda’s feet leave the dais and then many more feet enter upon it. Hands touched him and at first he jumped and writhed but then he realized the hands were not tickling at him but caressing him, smoothing their palms over him, groping him gently and calming him. He lay flat and panted and looked about uselessly in his blindfold. Someone crawled atop him and he felt the narrow waist of a Gerudo girl straddling his stomach. A warm pair of lips kissed at his feet, another at his thighs, another still at the nape of his neck. Hands moved into his hair and slid down his sweaty chest. Someone took hold of his manhood and played with it till it began to stiffen. Then he was being drowned in kisses and giggles and the firm rubbing of sensuous hands. His cock was stroked to ejaculation before a mouth closed around it and began sucking at him. He moaned and filled the night with sounds of his pleasure until a woman’s hand clamped his mouth and refused him any further noise. He purred into her palm and she kissed the bridge of his nose as another woman began massage his feet and another rubbed his shoulders. When the mouth around his cock had given him another orgasm, someone new worked him stiff and then sat down upon him. He slid up into the warm wonderful cunt of some Gerudo goddess and bucked his hips as she rode him into the night.

Much later when his blindfold was finally removed and he was allowed to glimpse upon all that naked olive flesh that surrounded him, Ganondorf knew he’d abandoned the beast within entirely. He would be a servant in full to these women, eager to please and to be pleasured.

And with his wicked aspirations abandoned, he lay back and reveled in the profound pleasures hidden amidst the Gerudo women and the desert night. 

* * *

_End_

 


End file.
